At this moment the sound of men marching in step comes through the stillness. Yielding to an impulse for which he could find no reason, Launce draws back a step—the girl has disappeared as if the earth had opened and swallowed her—and in another second a small party of men, walking two abreast, is close beside him—county police unmistakably; and a tall, upright man is a little in advance of the rest. He is speaking in a low voice as they come up, but Launce hears every word.
"Good idea to think of following young Blake. They are sure to assault him; they have been waiting for a chance like this for weeks past. Then we must just close in and catch as many of the rascals as we can. Look out for this Magill—a tall fellow in a soft felt hat. I would give fifty pounds to land that fellow safe and sound in Kilmainham."
As Launce listens a furious anger stirs within him—a rage so strong that it is as much as he can do to refrain from springing out upon the cowardly speaker. He knows the man now—he would recognize those smooth false tones among a thousand—it is Mr. Hunter, Mrs. Dundas's guest and friend, the man whom from the first he has disliked and distrusted. A horrible suspicion, a chill doubt, makes him shake from head to foot. Did Kate know of this? Could it be that the woman he loved had seen him go out, a predestined victim, so that this spy might lodge one or two more rebels in Kilmainham jail? A bitter word breaks from his lips as he thinks of it. This poor girl—for now that the police have passed Patsy has reappeared, like a phantom, out of the darkness—in her ignorance and helplessness has been more true to him than the woman he has loved so passionately.
"You have saved my life, Patsy, and I'll not forget it; but I'm not sure that it would not have been better for me to have gone on in my ignorance and taken my chance!" he says grimly.
"The saints be thanked!" the girl answers solemnly. "I have done what I said I would do, and my heart is aisy this night!"
CHAPTER VII.
A chill gray dawn is breaking when Honor Blake opens her eyes. She is in bed in her own room, and her father is siting beside her, watchful and anxious. At first she wonders to see him there, then slowly a dim sense of pain and fear comes back to her.
"You are better?" he says cheerily. "That's right! I'll go away now, and you'll get a sleep; but Aileen shall stay in the room, in case you should feel faint again."
"Faint?" she repeats, with a smile. "Have I been faint then?"
"Faith and you have, my dear! I never knew any one stay so long in a swoon before. I half thought you were dead when I saw you first; but you are better now, and we'll talk no more about it."